


Strength in Weakness

by Lunarion



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Gen, M/M, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-08
Updated: 2011-06-08
Packaged: 2017-10-20 06:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/209545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarion/pseuds/Lunarion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a rewrite regarding the scene after Anders' crisis point. I didn’t really think the dialogue options or the scene did justice to the emotional weight of events taking place, thus my interpretation of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strength in Weakness

“Anders. This is…” Exhausted, drained, emotionally distraught. Nothing could honestly describe the level of emotion held in Hawke’s voice. He stood behind the man he loved, thought he knew, hand clamped desperately down on Anders' shoulder. Trying, trying to understand, to never let him go; hold on and never lose him. But in all truth, how much of the man he loved still sat before him? How much had there ever been?

“I know. For what it’s worth, I’m glad it’s you. It was nice to be happy… for a while.” It was an eerie calm. Only the slightest hint of sadness laced his voice. It was the acceptance of his damnation; his fate to die a martyr in the eyes of mages and a monster in the eyes of men.

His hand squeezed a little tighter, but Anders made no motion to shrug away or embrace it. Hawke’s head hung low as he drew his dagger, his motions mechanical, automated. He felt the eyes of his companions on his back, burning, knowing well that this was the right decision. It had to be done. Had to be. Anders was a _murderer_ , an _abomination_ , and this was… what? _Justice_? If it weren’t for the dire circumstances, he would have laughed the thought away.

His blade came to rest against the small of Ander’s back, the metal pressing softly into the cloth. It was here he hesitated, his hand trembling under the strain. Never had such a simple dagger felt so _heavy_ , so _weighted_ in his hands. It felt as though he bore the weight of Thedas on his shoulders; of every life lived and lost, of every love that ended in tragedy. Surely no man could bear such a weight. It would crush him.

Ander’s eyes fluttered closed, head slumping forward ever slightly, resigned to his fate. He felt the hesitation, the tension and tremble in Hawke’s body, and a small, sad smile crossed his lips.

“It’s alright, love.” Barely a whisper, even to him; unsure if Hawke’s ears had even caught it. It didn’t matter though, for in that moment everything ceased to be. Time itself seemed to stand still, and suddenly there was nothing save for impenetrable darkness and the man at his back. No watching eyes, no city burning down around them. It would be a moment forever caught in time. A moment where a decision had been made, not in the name of right or wrong, or even justice. This, this was a choice made by love.

The sound of steel clattering against stone was not what he expected.

“I won’t.” Hawke allowed the blade to slip through his fingers, tearing his eyes away from Anders. This was not something he could do, regardless of his lover’s actions and the consequences of his own. His weakness was on display for the world to see, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Then I will do it myself.” Sebastian now, bow cocked and moving in steady stride; a point-blank shot his method of execution.

But in Hawke's weakness there was strength. He turned, swift and sure in his conviction, placing himself between his friend and his love. He met Sebastian’s eyes as the tip of an arrow bumped against his chest. Righteousness burned behind that turquoise glare, and Hawke was sure his own determination, or perhaps insanity, shone intensely in his own, grey stare.

“Touch him and I swear you will suffer the same fate as every Templar in this city.” The words were spat with venom, and even Hawke no longer recognized his own voice. It was surreal, as though he now stood in the Fade. A haze clouded his vision, his thoughts, and as desperately as he tried to clear it, his mind could only focus on one, single purpose.

 _I would drown us in blood to keep you safe._

But in the end, Hawke realized, it would be he who caused the world to drown.

It was with this that Anders’ eyes snapped opened, glancing up and over his shoulder at Hawke.

“You can’t be serious. If I had been in that Chantry today, would be waffling right now? You know what must be done.” Sebastian didn’t waver, bow string still drawn tight, arrow in line with Hawke’s heart. It would be a shot to end them, both he and Anders.

“My decision has been made.” His declaration wasn’t just for Sebastian’s ears. His eyes scanned the others, meeting each of their faces in turn. The others shifted, not knowing where to look; Aveline turned away, and only Varric could meet his gaze.

Sebastian stepped back, lowering his bow. His face was an odd combination of betrayal, anger, and sympathy. He tore his stare away from Hawke only for a moment, watching with contempt as Anders finally stood, coming to stand behind the man who would risk so _much_ to spare his life.

“I will not fight you, Hawke. My death now would be meaningless. I will return to Starkhaven, and I will bring with me such an army that there will be _nothing_ left of Kirkwall for these Malificar to rule.” A challenge issued, and a last chance to reconsider.

Hawke did not waver, head remaining high.

“And when I return, know that I will find your _precious_ Anders, and I will show him the true meaning of _justice_.” A threat now, and a promise.

“You can try.” That was all Hawke said, and while it was only a challenge to the ears of Sebastian, it was so much more in the mind of Anders.

Secret promises and silent kisses. Nights spent embraced and intertwined followed by mornings where, for once and if only ever briefly, he could forget about the world - his cause - and simply be. It was freedom, a happiness he never thought he’d find, hidden in the arms of this man who had shown him that yes, there was something greater. Love was greater, but Anders had never believed the sincerity of that statement, not until now. It was in this moment that Anders realized to both his joy and horror that Hawke would tear down the Gallows brick by brick if he had only asked. There was sadness then. For everything he had done to keep Hawke blameless in this, to spare Hawke his crimes and his fate, Anders knew Hawke would willingly damn himself, and never regret his choice.

And that’s exactly what he’d done.


End file.
